The Last thing she said.

When i was younger, i had these friends that lived next door. The first daughter was my "best" friend at the time and she had a younger sister, their Uncle lived with them and was my brother's best friend. I was 10 when their Uncle died in the most tragic of circumstances. Back then the street i lived on was being terrorized by thieves so the boys decided to start a Vigilante group, it was fun how they would whistle to themselves and chase thieves while we would peek from the windows and talk about it the next day. One day their Uncle (Kay) heard a noise in their compound and decided to check it out, he found a man trying to break into his brother's car. The thief had a machete but Kay attacked him and overpowered him, the noise woke his brother who got out his gun and in the dark night saw a man with a machete about to strike another, he shot. And that's how Kay died. It was a really sad period, we were all devastated but i remember my friend's younger sister was more so than anyone else. You see the day he died Kay had bought stuff from Mr. Biggs and refused to give her another meatpie, in her anger she said something most of us had said once or twice. She said "eat it alone and die alone"

And he'd died that night and it broke her that that was the last thing she had said to her uncle whom she really loved. That was around 14 years ago.

Another friend of mine lost her Dad yesterday, he had been sick a while and had just returned from surgery abroad when he died. Her Dad was a really nice man, he genuinely seemed interested in what was going on with everyone of us kids that had grown up on our street. Anytime i went over to theirs he would say "Is that Neo?" It was sort of a customary greeting, one i had grown accustomed to and maybe took for granted. Like i would always go there and he would say "is that Neo?"

His death got me thinking about my own father. My father is pushing 80 and has one stroke and prostate cancer behind him. He now has a live in nurse to help take care of him and doesnt talk much these days. It's hard to see him like that cos my Dad was a strong, proud, tall man. He had the sort of personality that filled a room when he walked in. He's a chief and so when i was young i remember troops of people from the village coming to the house to ask him to settle one dispute or the other. He used to call me his GF(girlfriend) Then he got sick and everyday i felt like a part of him was slipping away and i started to slip away too. I didnt want to see him like that, weak and tired. I wanted to preserve the memories of my hero and that was how i wanted to remember him. I started to prepare myself for the day he would die, i told myself that i would be able to handle it cos sometimes it seemed he was gone and all that was left was the shell of the man he had been.

But today it just hit me, that i cant remember the last time i saw him or what he said, all i have is a vague recollection of that day. I cant remember the last thing i said to him. We're not a family that's big on I-love-yous but i want to tell my Dad that i love him and that he was a good father. He taught me one of the biggest words i knew at 5, he used to say i looked "psychedelic" each time i just had my hair done. He used to take me everywhere with him.

Right now all i want is to see my father, even if it means sitting in silence or holding his hand and making him feel as safe as he made me feel. So each morning i pray for him with a renewed fervor that God keeps him alive so that i can see him again, talk to him again.